


Mule Creek Ranch & extended universe: shorts

by mx_vertiginous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2016, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mx_vertiginous/pseuds/mx_vertiginous
Summary: A collection of drabbles and shorts in the universe of Mule Creek Ranch for Kinktober.If you follow my main Mule Creek Ranch series, please note that anything that takes place off the ranch in these shorts is not canon.  I'm just sandboxing characters and ideas for the extended world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Theme of the day is: Dirty Talk

The chief marketing officer glanced down at the buzzing phone in his hand. His wife.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to take this.” He slipped out into the hall outside the boardroom.

It was the last archaic thing he held onto, love. Under his corporation it had largely been made obsolete. Men of means these days could have their needs met cleanly and without entanglements. Children could be raised without meddling from their mothers. And executive wives were free to pursue lives of morality, charity and leisure without the “heavy yoke of biology.” That last bit of ad copy had been one of his better ideas, selling the upper class ladies on the benefits of a sexless marriage. 

But Mr. Fletcher had never quite bought into his own pitch. Maybe it was old world sentiment, the romance of a time past. But some of it was quite simply love. His second wife, 25 years his junior, was starting to show her age. But in his eyes, she was still more beautiful than when they’d met. Her coltish youth replaced by a mature grace. At a charity luncheon or disaster relief effort, she was the face of quiet dignity, of warmth and manners. But behind closed doors…

“Delphine?” he answered.

“I miss you Charles,” her tone petulant, he could picture her mocking half-frown, “you’ve been working too many hours lately, I never see you.”

This old argument again, why did she have to start up with it now? “You know better, we’re nothing without my job…”

She interrupted, “When you get home tonight, I don’t want to hear about your job. You’ll find me naked in the study, behind your desk. I’ll be accepting excuses for why you’ve neglected me.”

“Delphine…” there was a grin behind his voice this time.

“I’m not done you bastard. If you appease me, you can have whatever you want. I’ll ride you on your oak desk, you can fuck me in front of the window… Hell, Charles, I’ll be naked on my knees, wrap my tongue around your cock, lick you till you’re dripping and then let you take me however you wish.

All Mr. Fletcher could do at that is groan into the phone and palm his stiffening cock through his bespoke trousers.

“But if you can’t convince me that there’s a damn good reason why you haven’t touched me in a week, I’m going to tie you naked to the bookshelf ladder, tease you till your balls ache and leave you for the cleaning staff to find in the morning.”

“Delphine, why do you do this to me?” he begged, voice cracking.

A throaty laugh, “Because Darling, you’ve never once hung up on me. I’ll be in your study when you get home, don’t be late. Enjoy your board meeting.” The phone clicked to silence.

Mr. Fletcher took a deep breath, willed his dick at ease, and wiped a drip of sweat off his brow. That she could still get under his skin after all these years, that she still wanted to rile him up… it was a small miracle. He ran a well manicured hand over his grey hair and headed back to the meeting room.

Sitting down again at the conference table, he gave a dismissive gesture “The merger deal in sector 2, sorry… go on Mr. Jackson.”


	2. Medical Intake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Themes of the day are: Medical Play & Sensory Deprivation

Her eyes flicked open, staring right into the glare of the flickering overhead light.

“She’s awake…. Damnit… George, can you hit her with some valium?”

Thump. Thump. Thump. The pain in her head found a familiar pulse. Where was she? What was this?

“I can’t, man. No sedatives until we can assess the head injury… I don’t want her to seize.”

She tried to sit up, her arms were strapped down, her ankles cuffed wide; she was confined to some sort of guerney.

“Muzzle her then. I won’t have this bitch spitting or biting, for all we know she might be infectious with something.”

Hands swam into view for only a moment, before some sort of rough canvas mask covered most of her face, obscuring her sight, covering her mouth, leaving a small slit for her nose. Something tightened down, pressure on her jaws, pressure on her temples till she couldn’t move her head.

“Alright, let’s get everything we need for labs, and then you can do your damn head injury assessment.”

Rough hands parted her legs, some cold tool was forced inside her. A pain shot up the inside of her elbow. She tried to scream behind the mask, but all that came out were muffled groans.


End file.
